


superhero honeymoon

by tvfanatic97



Series: Domesticity [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Honeymoon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-14 01:57:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfanatic97/pseuds/tvfanatic97
Summary: MJ is just trying to enjoy her honeymoon with her new husband, but his alter ego Spider-Man and supervillains keep cock-blocking them.





	superhero honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

> Anon on tumblr on Aug 3rd asked: "Smut smut sMUT SMUT SMUt smut smut smut smut smut smut smut smut smut smut PUHLEAAAAAAAASE SMUT." This one is for you, anon.

In the same way Peter had offhandedly proposed to her, MJ is the one to offhandedly suggest they get married. She says it half-jokingly, just drops a casual _“what if we just said fuck it and got married like, tomorrow?”_ into conversation as they’re sat side-by-side on the couch eating takeout for dinner and causing Peter to choke on a piece of pepperoni as a result.

After making some calls and filling out some paperwork to obtain a marriage license, they get married in a courthouse with Ned and Betty present as witnesses along with May and MJ’s parents also being in attendance as guests.

It’s not the romantic, grand ceremony most girls _and Peter_ dream of but it works out in that it allows them to remove the hassle of trying to save up and plan such a ceremony. Additionally, the short and curt courthouse ceremony means there is no risk of everything getting put on hold when one half of the couple inevitably has to leave to deal with some supervillain situation.

And with the need to accommodate for Peter’s superhero activities in mind they also skip out on an elaborate getaway for their honeymoon, instead opting to both take a few days off work then spend them mostly holed up in their apartment. There’s just no point in flying away to a tropical destination given how incapable of being on vacation Peter is, and also how he seems to just attract trouble even when he does try to be on vacation (see their Midtown science trip to Europe for reference).

* * *

MJ wakes up relatively early, her internal clock still used to her morning work commute, to find Peter still fast asleep on his front, head buried in his pillow and snoring lightly. Last night when they got home from their wedding reception they’d both been too tired to kick off their “honeymoon” and had instead just undressed out of their wedding clothes then passed out.

Today however, she’s determined to do this whole honeymoon thing properly so she nudges at Peter’s bare back.

“Peter,” she calls to him.

He seems to stir, but it’s only to adjust his position and he otherwise doesn’t wake up so she tries again, kicking at his shin as well as calling his name this time.

Again he doesn’t wake up so she decides to use extreme measures. She shuffles along the bed so she’s closer to his sleeping form then reaches her hand out to tickle his armpit.

“Stop, stop,” he sleepily grumbles, voice croaky and an octave lower with sleep.

Because she’s a little shit, was when she was just his girlfriend and plans to multiply that tenfold now that she’s his wife, she moves the tips of her fingers over his side and armpit to tickle him more.

Peter reacts by rolling away from her but he rolls an inch too far and goes tumbling over the edge of the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud in an ungraceful heap and taking the duvet with him.

MJ moves to look over the edge of the bed. “Oh my God, are you okay Spider-Man?” she asks in a breathy high-pitched voice, feigning complete innocence.

Peter narrows his eyes at her for a moment but doesn’t say anything. MJ is about to tease him some more when he suddenly sits up and reaches up to pull her off the bed.

“Pet-” she exclaims but it’s cut short as she lands in a heap on top of him, both his arms wrapped around her in a secure vice to keep her on the floor with him.

“Is that any way to treat your wife?” she asks trying to sound annoyed, but from this close she can see the smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and the crows feet that form at the corners of his eyes from how much he’s grinning.

Somehow, impossibly, his grin grows even wider. “_Wife_. I like that,” he breathes out with a reverence that causes a shiver to travel through her.

Peter’s hands that were wrapped around her waist move down to rest on the small of her back; she can feel the warmth of them even through the oversized t-shirt she has on.

She agrees wholeheartedly- it’s crazy how she ended up with the guy she was obsessed with from freshman year of Midtown and even crazier that she's now married to him, but after professing all her feelings when they exchanged their brief vows yesterday she feels maxed out when it comes to emotional vulnerability so doesn’t verbalise her thoughts. Instead, she wordlessly hums in agreement then adjusts her position over him, moving her legs to come and rest with her knees bent on either side of his hips so she’s straddling him.

“I woke you up so we can order some breakfast and pretend it’s room service we’re having in the honeymoon suite of a fancy hotel,” she tells him, hands coming to rake through his messy bed hair. He missed his appointment with the barber last week because of Spider-Man business so it’s currently much longer than he usually lets it get but MJ doesn’t mind it, she likes running her hands through it like this. “So c’mon,” she huffs as she pushes off him and half-heartedly tries to pull him off the floor.

They get back onto the bed with her lying on her back and Peter lying with his head resting in his palm as he leans his weight on his bent elbow so he can look down at her. “Well, I know what I wanna eat for breakfast,” he says with a feral, almost predatory smile. The hand he’s not leaning on comes to rest on her lower abdomen then he starts playing with the strings of her pajama pants suggestively, intention clear.

“That’s cute, but if you don’t get me French toast I’m getting our marriage annulled.”

Peter snorts like she’s oh-so-amusing but she’s being deadly serious. He then reaches back to grab his phone off the nightstand and he places it in her hands. “You get your breakfast and I’ll get mine.”

MJ rolls her eyes at him as he slinks down the bed. She lifts her hips off the bed so he can divest her of her pants then parts her legs to make room for him all the while she unlocks his phone and goes on the Postmates app.

“What do you want me to get you?” she asks without looking up from the phone.

Peter pauses from where he had rolled her t-shirt up and had been kissing a trail down her stomach and looks up at her with a self-pleased smirk. “I told you what I want to eat,” and to punctuate his words he suddenly moves down to lick a long path up her slit, the unexpected movement causing her to buck up.

She has to breathe in and out slowly to recompose herself. “Fine, but you can’t have any of my French toast.”

He hums in lieu of a verbal response and the vibration of it from where his mouth is wrapped around her clit causes MJ to moan, long and drawn out, and her back arches up to press herself into his face more and get him to do that again.

Peter continues his ministrations for a while, taking his time to lap up her wetness like he's savouring her and MJ gets distracted by the sensations he draws out of her.

She realises she’s almost crushing his phone which she is clutching tightly in her hand, whilst her other hand is fisted in his hair. When he slows his pace down, going back to gentle presses of his tongue, she finally feels some reprieve and loosens her grip on the phone to finish ordering her breakfast.

“Wait-” Peter stops her, pulling away to look up at her face, chin glistening slightly. “Can you get me pancakes, actually?"

She’d just thrown his phone across the bed. “Peter, I've just finished ordering,” she complains.

“C’mon, MJ,” he pleads. He then curls a digit into her up to his knuckle, then slowly pumping it in and out of her unhurried. “Please,” he says, drawing out the syllables before he adds another finger.

“Fine,” she huffs breathlessly, trying to pretend her breathlessness is out of annoyance at his indecisiveness.

Peter smiles at her, all shy and bashful like he’s not currently two fingers deep in her. _She hates him_.

She can’t hate him much longer though because he starts moving his fingers in a much more methodical way, and shifts positions to press his tongue against her once more, moving it in time with his fingers. He’s just starting up again when Karen’s voice suddenly speaks up from the integrated home system Peter had set up not long after they first moved into the apartment.

“Peter, there's-” the automated A.I. voice rings out.

“Karen, _shut up_,” MJ whines petulantly, voice more a breathless moan than actual formed words.

Peter makes a move to pull away from her so she tugs at his hair to keep him in place because stopping now would just be cruel. She’s his wife, she doesn’t deserve this.

“MJ, you know I gotta go,” he says as he brings a hand up to untangle her fingers from his hair before getting up and off her. “Karen, brief me on what’s going on,” he says as he hops off the bed to head to the closet where his suit is.

MJ watches him move with a slightly disappointed pout, his whole demeanour shifting as he listens to Karen’s voice drone on about a hostage situation. It’s weird, even though Peter and Spider-Man are one in the same she can see how he sheds Peter Parker, her dork and now-husband, and becomes Spider-Man in front of her eyes.

“I’m sorry, promise I’ll be right back,” he says as he walks back towards her. He has his suit, bar the mask, on now.

“It’s fine,” she says quietly, trying to mask her slight disappointment to not make him feel guilty. And it _is_ fine, they’ve been together since High School and she’s used to this but a small, selfish part of her had hoped the criminals would cool it just for two days to let them have a bit of a honeymoon, she didn’t think that was asking for much. It was stupid.

Peter comes to kneel over her on the bed. “I’m still sorry, this is supposed to be our honeymoon. I’ll deal with this really quickly and I’ll be back before you know it.”

MJ smiles up at him because how can she stay mad when he’s looking at her like that.

“You can have your French toast whilst I’m out because you’re gonna need the energy for when I’m back. We’re _really_ gonna work up an appetite,” he says, comically waggling his eyebrows.

“Get-” she grabs a pillow off the bed. “-_out_ of here,” she launches the pillow at his form, specifically aiming for the back of his head, as he walks towards their bedroom window. She misses. By like…_a lot_.

The hostage situation ends up being the start of a string of crimes Peter has to deal with and what should have been an hour or so’s work turns into him being out Spider-Manning the whole day.

He finally stumbles in through their bedroom window when it’s nearly midnight, and he’s all banged up and bruised. 

MJ just exhales audibly, exhaustedly, at the sight of him before getting off the bed she’s been curled up in all day with Netflix to head to the closet to grab the first aid kit they keep there. Peter for his part, strips out of his suit, grabs a spare towel to lay over their bed covers before settling on it in a dance they’ve perfected over the years.

“This honeymoon is going well, huh?” Peter deadpans.

“Don’t,” MJ snaps as she busies herself with cleaning up his cuts which are luckily mostly shallow; it doesn't matter how long it's been, she'll never get used to seeing Peter hurt. “Everyone knows _I’m_ the sarcastic one in this relationship,” she jokes, realising how harshly her “don’t” had come out.

Once she’s done Peter goes to shower whilst she cleans up both the used medical stuff and all her trash from her Netflix binge. She takes the trash to the kitchen then washes the small pile of dishes that have accumulated over the course of the day.

By the time MJ is done and gets back to their bedroom, Peter is curled up under the covers eyelids drooping slightly though she can tell he’s trying his best to stay awake to wait for her.

When she gets under the covers, sitting up with her back leant against the headboard so she can read for a while before she sleeps, Peter automatically shuffles along to come and lie close to her with an arm wrapped around her hips.

She alters her position so his head is now lying in her lap and she can run her fingers through his too-long hair.

“You know how I said we’d work up an appetite when I got back?” he asks, voice sleepy and barely above a whisper.

“Go to sleep Pete."

He moves impossibly closer to her, body almost burrowing into her in a way she should not find so adorable. “Tomorrow 'am gonna make you come so hard,” he mumbles sleepily, the rest of his sentence being slightly muffled by a yawn.

She just shakes her head bemusedly at him as she watches his eyes finally flutter shut and hears his breathing even out as he finally lets himself sleep now that she’s with him.

* * *

MJ rouses when she feels fingertips trailing against the sensitive skin just above the waistband of her pajama pants. There’s no real intent to the movement and it almost seems subconscious but as soon he senses that she’s awake it changes, the path his fingers trail suddenly not seeming random at all.

“Good morning,” he croons. “Am I good?” he quickly checks with her. She nods her head, adjusting her position as his hand snakes beneath the waistband of her pajamas to press the pads of his fingers to her clit. 

“You made me a promise before you fell asleep last night,” she teases.

“Oh yeah?” he asks and she always likes this confident side to him. “What did I say?”

There’s amusement dancing in his eyes and she can tell he definitely remembers what he said and just wants to hear her say it. _Asshole_.

“I actually don’t remember what exactly you said,” she bites her lip to contain a smile.

“Is there anything I can do to jog your memory?” He speeds up his movements and applies a bit more pressure as needed.

“Hm, I don’t know but I feel like we’re on the right track here.” She moves her hands to push her pants off and Peter helpfully pulls away to take them off for her. “If you carry on like this I’m sure it'll come back to me.”

“Anything I can do to help,” he says with a smirk. He moves to hover above her and snakes his hand down to resume his work, except now his thumb works at her nub and he dips an eager middle finger into her.

MJ lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a moan when he easily adds another finger, the sound is slightly undignified but she can’t find it in her to care when her new husband expertly moves his fingers in the exact way she likes based on years of learning and experience.

Her hips snap up, lifting off the bed helplessly when he replaces his thumb with the wet heat of his mouth. He moves his tongue in a way that's torturous, laving at her. She’d compare it to a man dying of thirst stumbling upon an oasis in a desert if it didn’t make the English Major in her cringe.

“Hey, I actually get to have my breakfast today,” Peter teases when he pulls away from her centre to catch his breath momentarily whilst his fingers continue pumping in and out of her, his pace insistent.

His warm breath fans over her labia as he speaks causing an involuntary shiver to go through her. “Peter,” she says in warning. Usually she loves how chatty he is but she’s close to the edge here. “Need you inside me,” she breathlessly mumbles.

He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean as he moves to the nightstand to grab a condom whilst MJ works on getting her t-shirt off so she’s now completely naked.

Peter pulls his sweatpants down only far enough to sheath himself with the condom before moving back to settle between her legs, taking one of them in his hand to angle it up.

MJ has just moved a hand down to line him up when the dreaded voice of that stupid, _stupid_ A.I. (MJ doesn’t really mean that, Karen has saved Peter’s life countless times over the years and MJ adores her, just not right now) rings out through their small apartment.

“Peter there’s a situation over on Brooklyn Bridge with the Rhino.”

Peter collapses on her, burying his head in her shoulder. “Fuck,” he swears with meaning.

He starts to clamber off the bed and MJ sits up, leaning on her elbows to watch his disbelievingly. Later she’ll blame her comment on sexual frustration at having been cock-blocked by Spider-Man twice now. “What, are you gonna fight Rhino with a hard-on? Get back into bed.”

“Peter there are several civilian cars trapped on the section of the bridge Aleksei Sytsevich has taken over. And the bridge’s structural integrity is waning,” Karen chooses that moment to speak, almost as if to spite MJ.

“I’ll just hop into a cold shower for like, a second.” Peter is already leaving the bedroom to go to their small bathroom.

“You know, if you have time for a cold shower then you have time for a quickie!” she shouts after him but she hears the sound of the shower a second later so he likely didn’t hear her.

Two minutes later he’s back and hurriedly slipping into his suit. “You know I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on Spider-Man stuff if we had a quickie, MJ,” he jokes as he gets dressed. Once his suit is on, bar the mask which is in his hands, he comes towards the bed and leans down to press a chaste kiss against her. “I am so, so sorry,” he apologises, tone so sincere that it makes MJ feel like an asshole for being annoyed.

“Just go get ‘em tiger.” And what used to be a cute phrase of encouragement she’d say to him before is now said begrudgingly.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises as he heads to the window.

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” she huffs. “I am gonna finish without you, you know,” she adds but he’s already swinging away leaving her to flop back onto the bed with a frustrated sigh; left wet and wanting.

Infuriatingly, she finds that she’s too annoyed to even carry on anyway so with a groan she drags herself out of bed and goes to shower. Afterwards she gets dressed then figuring Peter will likely be a while, decides to head out and run a few errands to distract her from the fact that Peter is out there risking his life right now.

She first heads to the library to return a few borrowed books and take out some new ones. Then May texts her to meet at the Farmers' market so she heads there and spends a few hours there, though the time is spent mostly gossiping with the older woman rather than actually shopping. As she’s doing these things she also constantly, but subtlely and only briefly, checks news alerts for Spider-Man.

When they’re done at the Farmers' market they grab some food and coffee and still, there’s no major news on Peter beyond how the situation on Brooklyn Bridge is “on-going”.

The two women end up finding excuses not to part, spending hours together. MJ suspects May is just as anxious as she is but is trying to distract herself and not panic lest she panic MJ as well.

“We’d know if something had happened,” May repeats for the umpteenth time.

MJ nods in agreement. “Yeah, yeah. _It’s just_\- yeah, you're right.”

“I know,” May says with a despondent sigh. They sit in silence for a stretch of time before she speaks up again, “Do you wanna come back to my apartment? I know I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“Um yeah, I’d really like that,” MJ admits quietly. She’d been trying to psyche herself up to ask if she could, trying to find a way to do it that wouldn’t make her come off too weak and scared.

“Okay, c’mon sweetheart,” May says as she gets up to gather their things so they can head for the Subway station.

A half an hour Subway ride later they’re back at Peter’s childhood apartment. The pair curl up on the couch and watch a bunch of random shows and reruns on TV, pointedly avoiding the news cycle. They’ll be called directly if anything were to happen so it wouldn’t be useful to watch the news.

They settle on watching reruns of ‘Golden Girls’ in complete silence bar the occasional huff of amusement from either of them.

The last thing MJ remembers is May’s hand soothingly running through her hair where she has her head resting in her lap as Blanche tells another one of her stories about her conquests on the screen before she drifts off.

* * *

When MJ wakes up in the morning she’s still on the Parkers' couch but May’s lap has been replaced by a pillow and she’s covered by a soft blanket.

“Oh MJ, hey. You looked so comfortable and I didn’t think you’d have been able to go back to sleep worrying about Peter if I’d woken you,” May explains coming to settle next to her on the couch with two cups of coffee.

Suddenly MJ remembers. _Peter_.

May must read the panic on her face because she immediately jumps in, “Don’t worry, Peter is fine. He called me last night to check you were here with me. He says he’ll be waiting for you at home.”

“Thanks May,” MJ breathes out with relief before moving to grab the cup of coffee she presumes is for her.

They make idle chit chat over their coffee and a few slices of toast MJ makes for them. Once they’re done she quickly showers before changing back into her clothes from before that she also slept in; she feels a little gross.

Afterwards she bids farewell to May then makes the journey back to hers and Peter’s shared apartment. Their shared apartment as a _married couple_. It’s still dizzying to think about it.

“Peter?” she calls out as she gets in, pausing to take her shoes off by the door before walking further into the apartment.

"Bedroom!" is all Peter calls back.

When she goes to find him in the bedroom her steps falter at the threshold at the sight before her. There are rose petals scattered on the floor forming a path that leads to their bed where there are two swans made out of towels, like they do at hotels, on it. He's also taken a mixing bowl, filled it with ice and put a bottle of champagne and it sits on the nightstand.

“Uh, hey. I’m really sorry our honeymoon hasn’t been going well but Matt said he’d cover Queens on his patrol today so no interruptions. And I’ve disabled Karen so she won’t interrupt us unless it’s Matt sending a distress call.”

“Peter-”

“I thought we could do all the corny honeymoon stuff and pretend we’re in some honeymoon suite hence the rose petals all over the floor and the towels. Those towel swans were so hard to make by the way, I spent all of last night trying to follow a YouTube tutorial. So respect to people that work in hotels who do those like, everyday. And just respect to people in the service and hospitality industries in general because they are constantly treated like sh-” he stops mid-rant when he notices how she’s just wordlessly watching him. “You hate it don’t you? Is it too much? I know grand romantic gestures like this can be a bit much for you but I just wanted to show you I’m sorry and I’m committed to attempting to have a honeymoon. I can clean this up-”

MJ interjects to stop his rambling, “Peter, stop. Please.”

Once he’s stopped talking incessantly she carries on, “I love it. It is really corny and over the top but I appreciate the effort and I know what you were trying to say or whatever.” She feels kind of misty-eyed which is just ridiculous. She should be used to how disarmingly sweet and thoughtful Peter is after all these years- she married him just the day before yesterday for God’s sake- but she’s still not, and will probably never get used to it.

“Okay, good. That’s good.” And she sees and hears him sigh in relief. He then starts walking towards where she’s still stood in the doorway. “Can I do one more corny romantic thing?”

“Wha-” she swallows the rest of her question down when Peter easily picks her up bridal style then carries her over the threshold of their bedroom door. “You’re such a sap,” she teases but there’s no real meaning to it. She finds that she’s grinning uncontrollably, in fact.

Peter carries her across their bedroom then gently deposits her in the centre of the bed. He then moves to carefully remove the towel swans from the bed, doing do slowly to not destroy his works of art.

“Now, I do believe I made you a promise before," Peter teases as he comes to lie beside her on the bed.

MJ sits up to take her top and bra off. “What promise would that be?” she retorts.

“Are we doing this little bit again?” He sits up to help her undress before divesting himself of his sweatpants and boxers which were the only things he was wearing.

“Who says it’s a “_bit_”?” MJ asks curiously with eyes narrowed at him as she pushes him onto his back before moving to sit on him with her thighs bracketing his hips.

“Oh, my apologies. Definitely not a bit.”

“How sorry are you?”

“Like, really, r_eally_ sorry.” His hands wander over the bare skin of her thighs like he can't get enough of her.

“Show me just how sorry.”

“I can definitely do that,” he leans up to press up a kiss to the underside of her jaw then continues trailing kisses down to her neck.

“I want you to beg for my forgiveness,” she teases. She feels a distinct twitch at her words. She smiles ferally down at him before reaching a hand down between them to grasp him in her hand then she slowly, torturously runs his head along her folds.

Peter groans lowly at the action, lower than the pitch of his natural speaking voice, hands gripping her thighs tightly enough to leave a mark later. “Em,” he chokes out, sounding desperate and spent all at once. He sounds like he’s surrendering to her.

“I said _beg_,” she repeats, continuing her motions except now she concentrates the slight friction on her clit.

“Please, please, please...” the pleads stumble out in a continuous stream, like a leaky faucet, and Peter may be incapable of getting drunk but here- lying beneath her, almost painfully hard, face and chest crimson red and panting and begging she could almost believe he were drunk. Completely intoxicated by her.

The thought draws a small moan from the back of her throat and before she knows it she’s sinking down on him.

She has almost taken him in to the hilt when Peter moves a hand up to squeeze her hip stopping himself bottoming out. “_Condom_, Em,” the words come out in a desperate gasp.

MJ hurriedly moves to grab one and gets it on him. Peter is too far gone to be of any help to her, manual dexterity likely gone, so he just lies back and watches her, licking his lips then mechanically thrusting up into her hand as she’s getting the condom onto him.

After that she comfortably takes him in and rides him with none of the finesse and grace she usually does, the both of them too equally desperate. Peter has one hand on her hip to aid her movements whilst the other works at the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs to get her there.

He finishes first but valiantly continues thrusting up into her, and speeds up the motions of his fingers, desperate for her to orgasm along with him.

When they’re done she heads to the bathroom to clean up and pee whilst he disposes of the condom then they reunite to lie down, with her on her back whilst Peter lays his head on her chest.

“I’m gonna need you to apologise more over the course of this honeymoon day, I think,” MJ teases, breaking the comfortable silence they’d settled into.

Peter huffs out a laugh then lifts his head to look at her face. “I love you,” he tells her, tone bordering on worshipful, as he watches her with his open, adoring eyes.

Instead of saying the words back MJ just kisses him, because really, he should know how she feels by now considering she married him less than three days ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I've had no desire/motivation to write anything since I wrote 'the man with a plan' and this one-shot is me dipping my toes back into writing fics to get back into the swing of things. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this and comments and kudos are much appreciated as always!!!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @tvfanatic97-2 and on twitter @dayaspsychic x


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